


Paper Planes

by Vicar_and_His_Barman (orphan_account)



Series: Anecdotes of Bilan [7]
Category: Coronation Street, Disney's Paperman (Video Short)
Genre: M/M, Paperman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6178048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Vicar_and_His_Barman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kissed paper plane guides Sean's love life.</p><p> </p><p>[Paperman (Disney short) AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Planes

Sean stood on the platform, a stack of paper huddled to his chest. The world was grey, no birdsongs reached his ears, no kind smell haunted his nose. Grey suit and trousers, white pressed shirt, straight black tie; everyday clothes for a boring, office-job, middle-aged man. Or, to be exact, him.

A train behind him rushed past, pulling his suit flaps and hair with it, as though trying to grasp his body and take him away from this grey underworld. Then something stuck to his shoulder. Looking down at it with disinterest, Sean found it to be a piece of paper and then it fluttered away. He didn't pay it any mind, until a handsome man with black hair, white shirt, black trousers and tie rushed past him after the paper that had, until seconds ago, been clinging to Sean's shoulder.

Having caught the runaway paper, the strange man came back and stood next to him. Sean offered a smile that the man had readily returned if a little sheepishly. The stranger also clutched a stack of papers, but they were neatly packed together in a folder, where he was now slotting the paper back in. At his feet, presumably his own, was a to-go mug of tea.

Nothing was said between them, but Sean felt something in the air, something odd. He noted the stranger bend down to pick up the mug from the floor and take a sip from it.

As he was contemplating this feeling, a gust of wind took hold of a slip of paper in Sean's arms and threw it into the stranger's face, who had turned to look at the other. The tea went flying, almost with a shout of delight at being set free. The office man gasped and rushed forward to peel the paper from the stranger's face.

For a few moments, they looked at each other, taking each other in. Sean noted the back-swept, short-cut black hair; the shallow wrinkles in his forehead; his straight eyebrows with that sharp slant downwards, laying above sparkling pale green eyes; the soft curve of his nose and his cupid bow lips, and finally, his defined jaw line with its light dusting of stubble. He didn't have time to continue his visual decent as the stranger looked at the paper that Sean held in front of him and snorted quietly.

The office worker, suddenly paranoid, looked down at himself. When he didn't find anything there, he turned to look at the paper. On it was a stain of tea from the stranger's face; it had formed a small lip imprint - presumably where the stranger had sipped the drink recently. Sean let out an exaggerated snicker himself, pointing at the stain.

But the man was gone. Sean's shoulders sagged as he saw him leave on the departing train. The stranger turned to look at him through the window, a wry smile twisting his lips, a hand raised to wave goodbye. And with that, the train was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting at his office desk by the window, surrounded by the clicking of pens and scratching of words on paper, Sean stared at the stain on the sheet that had blown into the stranger's face.

Why was he pining for a man he had only looked and smiled at anyway? He didn't even know his name...

A clearing of the throat made his eyes roll up to look at his boss, Mr Connor, holding a large stack of paperwork, which was promptly dumped onto his desk. Sean looked at the papers forlornly, a sigh escaping his defeated form.

Mr Connor disappeared into his private office and Sean looked out of the window at the slate grey building next door, locating an open window where a door was being opened and in walked a man. Sean gasped and leapt out of his chair, pressing himself against the glass.

The stranger at the train station!

The office worker waved, trying to get the other's attention, but to no avail. He did, however, grab the attention of Mr Connor.

Sean sat back down, a sigh on his lips. He was back to staring at his papers again... when an idea suddenly cruised through his mind.

His hand hovered over the stained paper for the briefest of milliseconds before he changed his mind and took a sheet from the stack that Mr Connor had dumped on his desk. He hunched over the sheet, folding meticulously, all his concentration on the origami. Checking that his boss wasn't aware of his antics, he stood up and took aim.

The wind took hold of the paper plane for a few metres...

**1.**

Before plummeting to the street below.

Sean sighed and returned to the next plane.

**2.**

The next flew true and strong all the way to the stranger's window. But he was off-target and the plane connected with the wall under the sill with a sharp click.

**23.**

Birds? Of all things... Sean shook his head and extended his arms outwards in his frustration.

As he reached for his next plane, his boss pulled him roughly into his chair, snarling a warning. Sean waited a few moments after Mr Connor's office door was shut and jumped up again.

**24.**

He felt bad for his brash waving of his arms as the next touched down on another man's desk, its appearance alighting a ray of hope on his face. But it had to be done.

**100.**

He was growing desperate now. He thumped his head against the wall for a good few minutes, before reaching for another piece of paper.

This one went through the window, but glided behind the stranger and knocked off the wall and into the bin.

**...**

Reaching back to the pile, he found a distinct lack of paper and more basket, which he promptly knocked off the desk. Its loud clatter caught the attention of everyone in the office. One man pulled his paper stack closer to him, protecting it almost from Sean's crazed paper-making.

The stained paper fluttered and Sean clapped his hand down on it. A second or so later and it was folded meticulously. He took a breath as he aimed the plane at the window. He was just about to throw it when a gust of wind snatched it from him. Tumbling down, down, down, into the street below. He hung out of the window, stretching after the falling plane in false hope. Straightening up, he looked at the stranger's window... where the man was shaking someone's hand in departure.

No. No. No! This couldn't be happening!

He made to run out of the door when Mr Connor appeared over the office worker, who slumped forlornly in his chair, another stack of paper was dumped on his desk. Sean sagged even further down into his chair, eyes downcast and sadness emanating from every pore in his body.

Then, he looked up, and his eyebrows flinched a fraction down his forehead.

 

* * *

 

 

He left his job that day. A job that had been his for thirteen years. And he had just thrown it away... He stood in front of a blue post box, on top of which sat the last aeroplane, tea-stain lips on its wing. It sat there, fluttering in the breeze, mocking him.

Sean's entire body sagged, bending as though there was a hinge in the centre of him. He picked up the plane and burned it with his glare, promptly throwing it to the sky violently.

He stalked off down the street in the opposite direction, hands shoved in his pockets, frowning at the pavement. Now he was going to have to find a new job and go through that process again. He was already planning what job to look for and where.

 

* * *

 

 

In an alleyway, a paper plane with a tea-stain kiss on its wing twitched in the light that broke through the cinderblocks of buildings either side. It fluttered, flapped, hopped and jumped until finally it took off, spiralling into the air. One hundred more pounced after it.

Sean stormed past then, not noticing the bouncing line of planes behind him. But he did notice the kissed plane stick to his leg.

Plucking it from his knee, he looked at it and threw it away with a sigh. But he didn't expect a sudden onslaught of five flapping into his chest; brushing them away, he tried to continue on, but he was pushed back by the point of the planes again.

And it didn't stop at just a few. Soon an entire army of planes was pushing him backwards, past astonished onlookers, a cloud of paper wrapped around him.

He was bounced across the road, barely missing being flattened by a truck. Once he was on the other side of the road, he noticed the kissed plane shoot away, in pursuit of something else.

 

* * *

 

 

At a nearby flower stand, the black-haired stranger stood, studying the petals for the best colour to give to the other man on the train station the next time they saw each other. There was, of course, that risk that they might never see each other again and he would be left holding a bunch of flowers on his own.

The stranger fiddled with his nametag, which read "Billy" - his name.

Suddenly, his attention was grabbed by a plane nose-diving into the flowers. He took a closer look and saw the kiss of tea on its wing, as he got even closer, it leapt from the flowers and twirled around him, dodging his grasp.

He ran after it as it lead away from the stall and down the pavement, overlooked by stern buildings and confused people.

 

* * *

 

 

Sean was still being bounced along the pavement.

 

* * *

 

 

Billy ran up some stairs as the plane led him.

 

* * *

 

 

Sean grabbed onto a pole as the clouds of planes tried to pull him up a flight of stairs. But his efforts were fruitless.

 

* * *

 

 

Billy was trying to catch the plane as it flew around in circles, making him wait on the platform. A train pulling up evaded his attention.

 

* * *

 

 

Sean was pulled up another flight of stairs.

 

* * *

 

Billy was led onto a train. He ran up the corridor of the carriage after the plane, apologising to a man that he accidentally knocked.

 

* * *

 

 

Sean was pushed through the door of another train. And held in his seat by the cloud of paper. A boy with a balloon stared at him in confusion.

When the man tried to leap from his seat, the planes pulled him back, pinning him to the bench like a lion would to her prey.

The mother of the balloon kid promptly pulled the child away.

 

* * *

 

 

Billy sat on a bench, the kissed plane in his hands, staring at it in confusion.

Suddenly, he realised where he was as the train started to slow down.

The doors slid open and Billy stepped out, looked around. He stood still and held the plane out, waiting for it to move. When other paper planes fluttered underneath him, sliding away down the platform, he grinned.

He turned around and there, engulfed in planes, was the stranger.

 

* * *

 

 

Sean couldn't believe it when he hobbled stiffly off the train and saw him, engulfed in the sunlight, the stranger.

 

* * *

 

Bursting out of the cloud of paper, Sean stood in front of the stranger, who stepped towards him, swiping a hand through his hair.

The ex-office worker looked down at the other's hands and saw the kissed plane.

Maybe fate wasn't the work of God after all... but a simple paper plane with a tea-stain kiss on its wing.


End file.
